


The Dragon and Her Princess

by amyfortuna



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Dragons, F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: The story of how King Gale overcame a dragon and won the fealty of the Lone Islands is wrong in every detail. Except one. There was a dragon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deepdarkwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts).



In the Chronicles of Narnia, as they have been passed to the worlds beyond the Wood, the matter of the dragon of the Lone Islands has been settled in little more than a footnote: King Gale of Narnia, in the year 302, defeated a dragon who was terrorising the Islands, and in return, the islanders were so grateful that they made him their overlord, granting him and every King or Queen of Narnia afterward the right to call themselves the Emperor or Empress of the Lone Islands. 

That is all very well and good, aside from being wrong in nearly every detail. 

One thing they did get right. 

There was a dragon. 

She didn't start off life as a dragon. No one does, in Narnia. Dragons are made, and they can be unmade, but they start off as Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, like you and me. This particular woman who became a dragon was a Terebinthian pirate. She was dark and fierce, her long hair always bound up in a large colourful scarf, her eyes bright and starry. 

Her name was Galia, for she had been born aboard ship in the midst of a storm, twenty years before our story begins. In that time she'd swiftly risen to the command of her own vessel, the _Dancing Monkey_ , and spent her days in journeying between Calormen, the Lone Islands, Terebinthia, Galma, the Seven Isles, and many places in-between. She recked no law but her own, and scorned all men who asked for her hand, saying the only use she had for a man was to row her ship when the wind dropped. 

One night, at sea between the Seven Isles and the Lone Islands, a raging storm descended upon the _Dancing Monkey_ and blew it far off course. Galia and all her sailors, young and strong though they were, could do nothing to turn the ship, and after a time, lost their way completely, being driven on and on through the storm, losing several people overboard, running rapidly out of food and fresh water as at last the few who remained huddled deep in the bowels of the ship, fearful of what awaited. 

Galia was the only one who would venture out upon the deck, by the tenth day of the storm, and she did so with a rope lashed about her waist, tied firmly to the mast. She was peering ahead, trying to see if any land at all was visible, when lightning struck the mast, and it was ripped from the ship, and she along with it. Crying out into the storm, she descended into the sea, still lashed tight to the mast, and promptly lost consciousness.

* * *

Galia came back to herself on a sunny beach, bedraggled and bruised all over, still tied to the mast. She wondered that she had not drowned, but the mast must have floated, for it was of a light and buoyant wood, though strong, and washed up on the nearest shore. 

Dragging herself to her feet and unknotting the rope with sore fingers, she looked out to sea for any sign of her companions, but there was nothing at all on the horizon, not even any sign of wreckage. The _Dancing Monkey_ and her crew were in fact never heard from again, and must have been wrecked with all hands in the middle of a vast sea. 

Delighted to be alive though grieving for her lost friends, she stripped herself of her ruined clothes and ventured to the nearest freshwater stream, flowing down from the mountains above, to wash herself and to drink the sweet water. She could see no people or signs of any habitation, but there were clearly animals - goats wandered on the mountain slopes, and rabbits hopped slowly about in a nearby meadow, eating without fear. Birds, too, flew around from tree to tree, singing merrily. There were trees that looked like they bore fruit not far away, and it was late summer, when the apples would be ripe, or nearly so. 

She spent many days exploring her new home, venturing further and further up the mountain slopes as the days went on. She fashioned rough clothes from the skins of rabbits and goats, formed a bed from downy feathers, caught fish and crabs from the sea. 

It was a lonely life. All her days, she had been among friends and family, and now she was by herself, with little hope of ever seeing a human face again. 

So when she found the cave, and the gold coins that lay scattered about just inside it, of course she ventured in, hoping only to find someone to talk to. 

No one knows what magic lies within these caves, or just why these things occur. Needless to say, she went in a young woman. She emerged as a dragon. Her scales were dark as midnight, and fire lurked in her eyes. She was fearsome enough to quail the heart of the strongest warrior.

Her scream when she realised what had happened to her shocked all the birds from the trees, and they took off for other islands. The rabbits ran back to their burrows, the goats fled into hiding, and the dragon flew up from the island, eyes wide in fear. 

Though she was a dragon, Galia still retained all the knowledge and skills of her human self, and quickly realised that this might be a way to escape her lonely fate and head back to civilisation. But which way? She soared far up into the blue sky until the air was thin around her, and on the horizon spotted a green dot of another island. 

She made for it, and rested there. It was a lonelier island, with little on it but a beach and some grass. It would not do to linger on. She must venture further. 

Again she rose into the sky, and again there was an island on the horizon. She did this several more times. Sometimes it was a mere strip of sand. Sometimes she had to catch flying fish in her jaws to find enough to eat; other times there were goats she could devour. Every time her strength was near its end, an island appeared on the horizon. 

At last, rising up high in the sky once more, she could see a familiar outline - the Lone Islands. There she would find friends! She was so overwhelmed and excited by the idea of finding people at long last, that she almost forgot what she looked like now, and flew eagerly toward the town of Narrowhaven.

* * *

In the town of Narrowhaven at that time, King Gale of Narnia was visiting. He was a far-venturing king who did not like to stay in Cair Paravel for very long, leaving the rule of the country to his wife, Queen Mira, and four sons. His only daughter, Princess Iria, was of like mind with him and travelled with him always. 

King Gale was a small man, unprepossessing, mild of temper. His daughter Iria, on the other hand, was as fiery of temper as her hair was red, and she feared nothing. 

When the dragon's approach was made known, she ran out into the streets to meet it, armed with nothing more than a light shield, her hunting knife, and the fierceness of her gaze. King Gale protested, but spent his efforts rather on getting everyone else off the streets, knowing that he could do nothing to quell his daughter's spirits. 

A hail of arrows fired from the walls of the city greeted Galia the dragon and she snorted, all but halting in midair, dropping down out of the sky and landing heavily on the ground. The arrows could not pierce her tough hide, but such a rude greeting wounded her. 

Before she could gather her thoughts, a flying form, red-haired and sharp-tempered, landed on her back, and a knife met the point of her throat. She swallowed, uneasily. 

"Depart from this city, oh dragon," a fair voice said from her back. "It is protected and you will not ravage it."

Galia tried to say that she had no intention of ravaging it, but in dragon form, she could not speak. She obeyed the orders given, and leaped hastily into the air, landing again with a thump on the unpopulated island of Felimath, in the midst of a grassy meadow full of late summer flowers. 

There princess and dragon first faced each other. Iria stood at bay, her knife held up, shield covering her face from the possibility of a fiery blast. But Galia had no intention of blasting her with fire, and instead just backed away, shaking her head. 

After a moment, Iria lowered her shield and stared at the dragon, confused. All the tales she'd been told were of dragons who were fierce and bold, who desired gold above all else, who would lay towns in ruin without a single care for all the lives they took. 

"You are not at all a typical dragon!" she exclaimed, and Galia crouched down in fear, hearing her speak. She stayed very still as Iria inspected her. "You're certainly very beautiful," Iria went on, and if Galia could have blushed in her dragon form, she would have. "Have I conquered you so easily?"

Galia looked at Iria, who stood tall and straight, her long red hair flowing out behind her, the sea breeze wrapping her soft garments around her. She nodded, and Iria set her shield down (but kept her knife to hand) and walked over, laying a hand on the dragon's nose. "Then I shall keep you," she said. "Will you be mine?" Galia nodded again, very gently, and closed her eyes, feeling Iria's hand caress her face tenderly. 

After so many days all alone, Galia felt a sense of wonder and delight at being touched by another human being, especially one so beautiful. She made a pledge in her heart to do whatever Iria asked of her, and to follow wherever she would go. 

Iria was pondering how best to return to her father, but decided it was not a good idea to return to Narrowhaven with the dragon in tow. Surely he would have seen where she went, and she could explain when the soldiers arrived. Looking around, Iria saw a nearby hill, and from her previous explorations of Felimath, knew there was a cave in it. 

"Come with me," she said imperiously, and began walking toward the shelter. Galia followed clumsily on her four legs, and after a little while they made it to the cave, where Iria ordered Galia to lie down and rest. She would remain on watch outside. 

Galia dropped down heavily once she was inside the cave, and sank into an exhausted sleep for a while. Dimly, outside she could hear the rattle of spears and Iria's voice, speaking earnestly. There seemed to be many soldiers outside, and she was afraid like she had never been before, not even in the midst of the storm, facing starvation and death. Even if Iria was true to her promise, what could the future hold for her in a dragon's shape? How would she ever live among people again? 

The stars were shining bright by the time Iria entered the cave, and sat down quietly next to Galia's sleeping form. She'd confronted the soldiers, and they were returning now to Narrowhaven in the firm belief that Iria had defeated the dragon in combat and driven it away forever. Only her father knew the truth, and Iria did not know what he'd told the soldiers, but whatever it was, it had worked and they were gone. 

It was very dark in the cave when Galia opened her fiery eyes to see Iria sitting on the sand beside her, knife on the ground, her head in her hands. Without thinking about it, she sighed, and then Iria sighed. 

"I've taken so many risks for you, dragon," Iria mused aloud. "I hope you're worth it."

Galia nodded again, fiercely. She wanted to cry out, _I am, I am, thank you, Princess!_ but her mouth could not form the words. 

"There's nothing I can do for you, dragon," Iria went on. "You should go. You'll be misunderstood if you stay." She looked up at Galia, who thought she saw tears in her eyes. "I don't want you to go, though." 

Galia settled more firmly into place, and Iria curled up against her warmth. "Don't go," she said then. "We'll work something out."

Both girls, the one in the dragon's shape, and the one in the princess' shape, fell fast asleep after a few moments. 

They dreamed one single dream. In their dream, both were women, and they ran toward each other with their arms held out, embracing fervently. Galia's dark hair, come loose from its customary scarf, trailed behind her, and Iria's bright hair mingled with it as they held each other. 

Galia spoke then, her voice rough from disuse. "Thank you for saving my life," she said. "In truth, I do not know how to thank you enough." 

Iria laughed. "Thank you for not killing me! I'm not sure if it's obvious, but you were my first dragon." Her gaze turned tender. "And probably my last, for having known you, I could never fight another." 

Galia's answer to that was a kiss, tender and soft at first, a little shy. Iria laughed against her lips, and boldly deepened it, warm and welcoming. "Iria," Galia breathed, half in shock, half in wonder, and they looked at each other, smiling. 

The twitter of birds, far and faint in the trees outside the cave, woke Iria, and she started up to find that in place of the dragon, a beautiful maiden lay, breathing slowly and peacefully. She was clothed in Terebinthian garments, and her dark hair was wrapped in a scarf. She looked exactly like the woman Iria had seen in her dream. 

Glancing around, Iria noticed, in the distance, a flash of gold, as if some great beast had prowled over the sand and vanished over the waves. Large footprints, too, disturbed the sand, and they were the prints of a great cat. 

Iria looked down at the sleeping maiden again, and knew, from the stories, exactly what she had to do. 

Her mouth met Galia's.

* * *

When they finally managed to get back to Narrowhaven, hand in hand, Iria and Galia were greeted by King Gale on the outskirts of the town. "They want to make me Emperor of the Lone Islands!" he exclaimed, hugging his daughter. 

"Why?" Galia asked. 

King Gale looked her over. 

"Because I...conquered a dragon?" he said. "I've tried to tell them I didn't. I've no idea where that dragon is or what became of it." He turned back to Iria. "Daughter, can you enlighten me?" 

Iria shook her head, trying not to look at Galia and only partly failing. "I don't think the Lone Islanders need worry about that dragon reappearing." 

Galia smiled at Iria. "It's you who conquered a dragon, my dear!" she said. "You should be Empress, by rights."

Iria made a face. "Ugh, boring," she said. "I love being a princess. Let father be Emperor, if he wishes!"

"And what shall I be to you?" Galia said, only for Iria's ears, as they walked back toward the town. 

Iria pressed a quick kiss to Galia's lips. "Didn't we discuss this already? You're mine - I conquered you, and now I get to keep you!" 

Galia's smile was radiant. "That works both ways. If I am the dragon, then you must be my princess." 

And so their agreement was made. Iria and Galia travelled widely throughout their youth, but as they grew old, settled in Narnia at last. By all accounts the old fairy tales spoke true: they lived happily ever after.


End file.
